A Will To Murder Read Online Free Page B

gazed at the cigarette, then turned away.  “Are we ready to go inside?” he asked his wife.
    Heydrick walked off, disappearing again around the side of the house.
    “He didn’t even say hello to me,” said Rose, taken aback.  “He always has before.”
    “Of course.  It’s because he’s deranged,” Jac said as she rang the intercom button.
    “Who is it, please?” said a female voice from inside the house.
    “It’s the family, Mrs. Marshpool,” Rose called over her sister’s shoulder.
    “Oh, that’s all we need,” the voice replied.

Chapter 4
     
     
    They were let into the foyer by Mrs. Marshpool, the housekeeper of Rollingwood.  Mrs. Marshpool was a tall woman in her early fifties with a deeply-lined mouth and blunt-cut blonde hair.  She wore a white blazer and slacks.  Bert whispered to his wife, “Looks like the sadistic head psychiatrist of an all-female institution.”  
    Rose swatted him.
    The housekeeper was barring the way with crossed arms.  She had not yet blinked, and indeed, didn’t seem to need to.
    “Hello,” said Rose.  “Does Aunt Katherine know we’re here?”
    “Don’t keep us standing here, Marshpool,” added Jac in an acid tone.
    “We’ve had a long drive,” said Rose hastily, trying to soften her sister’s rudeness.  “This is my husband Bert.  I don’t think you’ve met him before.”
    The housekeeper lifted an eyebrow.  Bert gave her a cold nod.  He knew the Boyles thought him vulgar, but he wasn’t willing to take crap from the servants as well.
    “--and my son Arthur.”
    Arthur gulped.  “Hi,” he said weakly.
    “You children mustn’t touch anything,” said the housekeeper with a scowl.  “We have many valuable antiques here at Rollingwood and they must not be damaged.”  
    “Not even the doorknobs?” asked Richie with a grin.
    “Stop lecturing my children,” Jac flared.  “Father’s dead and you have no authority anymore.”         
    “Just wait until the will is read,” replied Mrs. Marshpool, unperturbed.
    “Oh, I hope you’re let off with a handshake and a fiver,” snarled Jac.
    “Jac, please don’t start a fight,” Rose begged around another antacid.
    “Yeah, honey,” added Phil.  “By the way, where are your aunt and your brother?”
    “Mr. Armagnac is in the library,” said the housekeeper coldly, “and he’ll come out to greet you when he’s ready.”
    “Oh, he will, will he?” growled Jac.  
    “--and Ms. Katherine--”  The housekeeper paused.  A gray-haired old lady was heading towards them.  This was Katherine Boyle, the deceased James’ sister.  Mrs. Marshpool stepped aside, professional composure replacing the threat on her face.  As Katherine clutched armloads of family in greeting, Arthur looked to see how Briarly would react to her great-aunt, but the girl was gone.  
    Katherine also tried to embrace Richie, but Phil, with the insight of a parent, yanked the boy back before the old lady could impact.  “He’s very pleased to meet you,” said Phil hurriedly.  “Richie, go find your sister.  She seems to have gone outside.”
    “I have a housegift for you, Aunt Katy,” Rose said, “a bottle of my dandelion wine.”
    “Wonderful!  We’ll have it for tea.”
    “What’s with your clothes?” Jac asked.
    Katherine was wearing a paint-splattered flannel shirt and old khakis.  She giggled.  “I’m redecorating.  Don’t tell Armagnac.”
    “Madam,” Mrs. Marshpool interrupted, “you need to tell them about the arrangements?”
    For a second Katherine looked blank.  “Oh yes!  James, well.”
    “I’m beginning to feel sorry for the old guy,” said Bert in an undertone to Phil.
    “Don’t bother,” replied Salisbury.  
    At this point, Rose keened her condolences to her aunt, and the two women hugged again.  Jac gave her husband a sour look at such hypocrisy.
    “There won’t be any church service, I’m afraid,” said Katherine, releasing her niece.